


Torment

by Doceo_Percepto



Series: NSFW Little Nightmares II [5]
Category: Little Nightmares (Video Game)
Genre: Cannibalism, F/M, Guilt, Masturbation, Mono gaslighting himself, Mono's self deprecation, POV Second Person, Six's selective mutism, You are Mono, accusations of pedophilia, bit of gore, nondescriptive rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:29:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27377986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doceo_Percepto/pseuds/Doceo_Percepto
Summary: Six takes your friendship to the next level. You’re not ready.
Relationships: Mono/Six (Little Nightmares)
Series: NSFW Little Nightmares II [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2074623
Comments: 31
Kudos: 144





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Normally, I enjoy consensual Monix. But me being me, I couldn't get away from this fandom without writing at least one thing where it’s not consensual.
> 
> Mind the tags, everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Copying one of my comments from below here:
> 
> I picture Mono in this fic and others I write as three years older than Six. For this fic: Six ~13 or 14, Mono ~16.
> 
> However, Mono does not know how old Six is (and neither does Six). While Mono had a (relatively) stable childhood and decent nutrition, Six had an unstable childhood and was malnourished; she is small for her age. She’s also in a strange position where, due to her upbringing, she is sometimes immature for her age, and sometimes more mature. Mono, and others in the fic, only knows she must be younger than him.

It started on one of the hottest days of summer. You had a few moments to yourself, while Six was treading the perimeter and watching for intruders. 

Alone time was very rare; privacy something so uncommon that when you did get it, you usually _had_ to use it. After all, you and Six were pretty much glued together, more often than not struggling to survive. There wasn’t much time for dealing with the regrettable personal issues that came with being a teenager, but unfortunately, your body didn’t really _care_ whether you had more important things to deal with or not. Squeezed into the breaks you were afforded, when your patience was at an end, you sometimes had to hide away and take care of matters. 

That’s when the trouble first began. When you assumed you had enough time, and curled up into a wooden crawlspace of another abandoned building. The smell of sawdust was strong in your nose, the ceiling lightly brushed the top of your messy brown hair, and your paper bag lay forgotten by your foot. It wasn’t very comfortable. More furtive and gross and cramped. It didn’t really have to comfortable, though. Just hidden. You might have more-than-friend feelings for Six, but that didn’t mean you were going to get her involved in your problems. All you wanted to do was get it over with. 

You unzipped enough to get yourself out, and had a stolen napkin in your other hand. The motions were hasty and annoyed, serving only to get you to the destination.

Being a teenager sucked. Being horny sucked. It swarmed your thoughts with stuff about Six that disgusted you, because she wasn’t interested in the same way, and she was younger anyway, so what did that make _you_?

Masturbating was always an unpleasant endeavor, where you labored to keep your thoughts completely blank and you almost always failed. It was worse this time, though, in a tiny space where you couldn't properly stretch out your legs. Your joints hurt curled up while eager spasms tensed and relaxed your muscles. There was no helping it. Anywhere else would be too open. You screwed your eyes shut. C’mon. Just finish. Just finish. Your skin baked in the confined crawlspace, and your shirt clung to your back with sweat.

Hurry up. The less time you had to do this, the more time you could spend setting up camp for you and Six and pretending this never happened. Think of nothing. Just finish. 

Finish finish finish f-

Your arm hair stood up straight. 

Something was wrong. Years of living on the street had given you an almost preternatural sixth sense, which now rang alarm bells. 

_Someone was_ _watching you._

Instantly, your eyes flew open in panic and - 

_Six_. Crouching in the entrance way. Gazing unabashedly.

Your hands shot down to cover yourself and two octaves higher than usual, you screeched, “Jesus, what are you doing?!”

She blinked, and met your eyes. The question was evident there. What are _you_ doing?

“Go away, this is private-” You were humiliated, your face cherry red. You wanted to pull your pants back on, but to do that, you'd have to stop hiding your dick. “Six, c’mon, just trust me on this one, you don’t need to understand-”

Six seemed to disagree. Her eyes took a generous fill of you, raking from your damp hair to what you were trying really, really hard to hide. She was a curious creature by nature. She liked to investigate, to learn. 

“Please,” you nearly whimpered. “This is adult stuff, okay?” 

She crawled closer. The way she approached you was somewhere between a child, a predator, and an intrigued animal. Your back slammed against the far wall as your feet skittered over the wooden beams. 

“Six! I’m serious!”

She had never been good at listening. In the cramped space, there was no getting around her, either. 

“Don’t you dare-”

She reached between your legs; you pushed her hands away. Almost instantly, it turned into a ridiculous hand slapping game where you fought to keep her off and she did her best to grab literally the most sensitive part of your body. You were dead serious about keeping her the hell away, but Six cracked a smile like the two of you were playing another game together. 

An extreme weakness of hers was her complete and utter inability to conceptualize another’s perspective. She knew, of course, that her actions harmed people, made them afraid. It was impossible not to know that. Her struggles with emotional connection came in smaller forms. Like believing she was always right. Dismissing someone else’s distress. Or in this case, not differentiating between a simple game and a goddamn terrifying experience for you. 

You didn’t WANT this. 

“Six, _stop it_!” It came out sharp and mean. You bypassed her hands to shove her shoulders _hard_. Harder than intended. She smacked against the wooden wall, and squealed in offense. 

“Sorry, I just-”

Recovering, she pinned her narrowed eyes on you. 

Oh, fuck. 

Suddenly, it wasn’t about you setting boundaries, or stopping her from doing something uncomfortable; if it had ever been that in her mind. Suddenly, it was about her _winning_. 

Her shadows overflowed from the hollows of her coat and swarmed towards you; the wooden beams of your tiny enclosure groaned with their expansion. Dark coils snared your wrists and thighs and forced you open. Right away, she wrapped her hand around your dick and you nearly choked.

She laughed, delighted. Novelty. Victory. Maybe that’s as simple as it got for her. 

You didn’t know what to do. 

Six had expressed this kind of shortsightedness before, many times. Mixing up play and actual hurt. Not reading your emotions correctly. Not seeing how things were bad until it was carefully explained, and even then there was no guarantee. 

But she’d never mixed it up with something like this. 

You crushed yourself against the wall in a dumb attempt to get away, while your thoughts screeched like a klaxon. This wasn’t right. You didn’t want this. But panic strangled your words. You were stuck in a very tiny corridor, held forcefully in place with shadows that almost entirely blocked out any sunlight from outside, and she was kneeling there just - stroking you experimentally in the same rhythm you'd been doing, which meant - 

Oh god, she’d been _watching_ you - 

“Stop-” the word sounded breathless.

Six used her other hand to pat your head in consolation. She didn’t even look up, too fascinated with what was between your legs. 

You were going to have to make this really clear to her. If you didn’t - if you didn’t, she wouldn't stop until she had sated her curiosity. Only you were overheating. Your whole face was flushed and your scalp tickled with sweat. She handled you like you were merely something interesting and new. She was seeing something she hadn’t before, and didn’t understand. So now she wanted to figure out how it all worked, why it was different than hers. 

The whole thing made you feel awful, like a specimen under examination and not a human being. 

“Stop, Six, this isn’t funny,” you rattled off, and kept plowing on, “I’m uncomfortable, you’re freaking me out!” Sometimes you hated how the only way to make nuanced feelings clear to Six was explaining them. 

She stilled, though, and raised her head. The sheer obliviousness in her eyes was both scary and heartbreaking. 

“Claustrophobic,” you blurted. “I’m - I’m claustrophobic.”

It wasn’t true all the time, but it was true now. And more importantly, it got the point across. 

Her shadows vanished, and she backed herself out of the crawlspace. You had a few moments to breathe, collect yourself, and pull your pants back up with shaking hands. It was hard to process what had just happened. You'd rather stay where you were. Crammed in a small area, yeah, but not crammed in there with Six. You couldn't stay here forever, though.

When you emerged from the crawlspace after her, she hurried to your side and nuzzled her cheek to your shoulder as if in apology.

“It’s okay,” you told her weakly. You didn’t know if it was okay. You probably should explain more. Because she didn’t know. But you were rattled, and uneasy, and it was hard to think of giving Six some kind of sex ed right now. Giving her The Talk. 

If you didn’t say something, though, she’d come away thinking that the worst she did was make you feel claustrophobic. 

“Um…” She looked up expectantly. “I’ll tell you because you don’t know, but… you’re not supposed to touch people there, Six.”

Six didn’t like rules without explanation. _Why not?_ Her expression demanded. 

“It’s… I mean, if you’re with-with someone-” Your cheeks burned hot again. “Then it’s okay, but - friends, friends don’t do that.”

Crap, this was just more and more arbitrary to her. What did friends versus relationships even mean to her? 

“You have to trust me on this. Friends don’t touch each other like that. Only when you’re really close to someone, or um-”

Six reached for your pants again and you skittered back. “No no no, I _know_ we’re close, but-”

She scowled. 

“It’s not that I _don’t_ like you that way-” This was just getting worse and worse. You groaned and rubbed your palms over your face. You were even confusing yourself. Because you _did_ have feelings for her. So why did you panic so much? No, no, you were justified. You didn’t want things to go that way.

“You don’t understand,” you tried pathetically. “You’re too young for me anyway, Six, and this whole thing is for- I mean-”

She let out an impudent hiss at the assertion that she didn’t understand. Her next action scared you out of your skin again when she hiked up the bottom of her raincoat and started up a practiced motion over her shorts that indicated: okay, yes, she DID understand that particular thing, and had had some personal experiences in the past- 

“Stop-stop-stop- please, Six, just-”

She stopped, but there was no good will in her eyes. She wasn’t grasping any of your explanations because they simply weren’t things that made sense to her.

You ended up storming off.

So you did an awful job explaining anything to her. It was no wonder she was confused.

After that incident, you couldn’t think about her in that way without feeling nauseous, either from her actions, or your own self-disgust. When you had to masturbate, you made absolutely sure there was no chance Six would find you, and you did it quick as possible.

Six’s own behavior towards you, meanwhile, changed so little that it painfully evidenced her unawareness of how sensitive sexuality could be. 

She was still playful. Still hugged you the way she used to, and nuzzled you. Still had big smiles when she was in a good mood, and big pouts when she wasn’t. Your small foray into sexual activities didn’t in any way change her perception of you the way it had changed yours of her. Which… if nothing else, it at least helped things feel normal.

The longer you spent together without things getting weird again, the more you thought life _would_ go back to normal. That you could forget anything happened.

It didn’t pan out that way.

As she had proven, Six shared the same carnal need that sometimes drove you into solitude. A different kind of hunger than her usual one. 

The first time you noticed was when you woke up in the middle of the night with her legs wrapped tight around your thigh. You completely froze, hoping against all hope you were misunderstanding what was going on. There was no chance. Especially not with the very soft, quiet sounds she was making, so light as to nearly go unheard.You didn’t know what to do. 

You flashed to all the times you'd woken up in the middle of the night, hard and needy and hating what was happening to you. Six didn’t seem to hate this.

Her thighs squeezed. Her breath huffed in your ear. Her fingers clenched in the fabric of your coat. She was rubbing herself on you.

_Wait, had she done this before and you were just asleep for it?_

“ _Ah_ \- Six!” you finally uttered high and nervously, willing the heat to stop going to your crotch. You squirmed away, pushing her off, “Six, stop- that’s not-”

She made a protesting keen and lifted her head. Her eyes were lidded and hungry, her jet black hair a ruffled mess. She wore a very disgruntled look.

You wish you could say it didn’t turn you on. 

“ _No_ -” You pried yourself away and scrambled to your feet, chest heaving. 

Holy crap. Her shorts were riding up her thighs, and the yearning look she cast was far too intense. 

You forced yourself to look away. “Don’t _do_ that, Six!”

Staring at the ground, you didn’t get to witness the hungry look turn into frustration, but you _did_ hear her annoyed hiss. 

“I don’t want to upset you. But that isn’t something friends do-”

All you got was a snarl in return. Six ended up stalking off, huffing, and only came back in the morning. You tried to calm yourself down. Six didn’t understand a lot of things were bad. That’s why you were here, usually. To help her know right from wrong. 

“I’m sorry,” you told her the next morning. Only you didn’t really know how to explain. “People are supposed to… y’know… take care of that kinda stuff on their own, in private.” 

She was grumpy with you the entire day. 

If only it would have ended there. Your theory that Six had been rubbing on you in the middle of the night to get off might have had some merit, if only because Six was making it painfully obvious now that she was suffering without your unconscious assistance. 

Case in point: you were now catching her rubbing on various objects instead of you, while making no effort at all to make her self-pleasure _subtle_. 

Attempts to explain why it was inappropriate were met with frustration. Sometimes it was hard interpreting her, but she seemed to think ‘well, you won’t let me rub on you, you won’t let me rub on other stuff, what am I supposed to do!?’ 

The idea that the problem was her doing those things _publicly_ (or with you) flew right over her head. Likewise, she didn’t grasp any of the nuances in relationships or sex. That there were rules, boundaries. That you date people, and work up to sex. That you don’t freaking masturbate in public. 

But of course, Six hadn’t really had friends before you. She hadn’t gone to school, either, _or_ had loving parents (that one was a pretty safe assumption). While she didn’t talk much about her past, you knew that she couldn't read, couldn’t write, and had spent most of her time trying to survive alone. In some regards, she was insanely clever; in others, incredibly clueless. A lot of things that seemed obvious to you were, to her, completely unheard of. 

In all honesty, that was part of the dynamic of your friendship to begin with. That’s why you managed her hunger, and made the moral decisions she was often incapable of. 

Maybe this was just… one of those things you had to help her through. You had to be patient. Explain it carefully. Bring back all those awkward conversations your mom had had with you. 

So… you tried.

You gave it the most pathetic attempt, stuttering through the birds and the bees, and ending up on a faltering tangent about marriage.

At the end of it, her expression was that frustrating look she sometimes got. The same one she wore when you talked about morality, and saving people, or when you vented about your guilt on the number of kids you’ve left behind. It was a ‘you silly strange boy, with your silly arbitrary rules.’

There was a fondness in the look, sure. But also something politely demeaning. 

You sighed, overwhelmed. “I like you too, Six,” it was surprisingly easy to admit, especially if you avoided a stronger word than _like_ , “but there’s - there’s a way to do these things- And anyway, you’re too young! I’m too old!”

You walked away thinking your attempt at sexual education was a failure. 

Better that it would have failed. 

Instead, you seemed to have given Six some framework for her advances, as well as the notion that if she simply followed your ideas about sex, she would get what she wanted. Worse, because of you, she now _knew_ what she wanted.

Her first effort was a kiss to your lips. 

She’d licked you a lot before, and sometimes nibbled along your neck: gestures that may or may not have incited your initial attraction. 

A kiss on the lips, though? That was new. 

Maybe it would have been romantic, too, except she did it out of nowhere and it was more surprising than anything else. She did the whole excessively puckered lips and then mashed them against yours and that was it. She then sat back and stared at you like she expected the clumsy collision of your mouths to instantly get you in the mood.

“No, Six-“ you started to say, confused. But what were you supposed to say? You had already told her kissing was the first step. And you had historically regarded it that way. Well, maybe cuddling first? But you and her cuddled all the time, so…

Six leaned away, expression hurt and confused. 

She’d been following what you said. She’d been trying to please you. And yet again you told her no, for reasons you couldn't even articulate. It wasn’t that you didn’t like her in that way, because you did. A lot. 

“It’s okay,” you said quickly. “Sorry.”

Very quickly confusion melted to satisfaction. She kissed you again, just as hastily, and you jerked away. You wanted her to _not_ do that, especially because she didn’t seem to actually like it, but… 

“You don’t have to,” you tried hoarsely. “I mean, don’t do something you don’t like-”

Something somewhat dangerous about Six was that she took things at face value, never examining the reasons someone might have said something. She didn’t really want to kiss you. You told her she didn’t have to. So she stopped, and instead started lapping at your throat, while her hand dove between your legs. 

Your heart thudded; your thoughts raced. 

Why were you so conflicted? Why did you keep wanting to tell her to stop? Was this some kind of messed up deal where you only want to be intimate with her if she followed things exactly according to the sort of fantasies you had? Because if so, that was really screwed up - 

Mired in your doubts, you checked back into reality to find that now, _now_ she looked excited. Eyes gleaming. Hands pawing at you. She was all over you. Wasn’t this what you wanted? Didn’t she deserve to do things in a way that made her happy, too? Things were just happening really fast. You hadn’t even discussed if you were dating or anything-

But that was okay, right? Everything didn’t have to be a discussion. Everything didn’t have to be set in stone. Doing that would make stuff too formal, right? 

You didn’t know. But Six was making decisions for you. Her shadows had come into play, their chilly tendrils coiling around your arms and legs with saccharine affection. She was everywhere at once. Touching, caressing, tasting. Pulling your clothes off; only what she needed gone to get to the destination. In every movement there was adoration; it was an adoration without regard or knowledge of your discomfort. She loved you.

Your mind went somewhere else.

You felt guilty, scared. You thought that maybe you didn’t actually want to have sex yet. You turned your head to the side because her feral flashing eyes made you uneasy, and then you stared at a rock and thought things like, _huh, there’s a bit of moss on that rock_. It was hard to breathe, but you were pretty sure that was because you didn’t want to be pinned down anymore.

It couldn't have all been terrible, though, because some part of you did like it. 

And when the two of you detached, sweaty and breathing hard, you only kind of felt empty. After all, you'd gotten closer to Six than you'd gotten with anybody else, and... well, there was nobody else you'd want to be that close with. That was it, then, you were... dating. Sort of. Mostly nothing changed, except that Six had gotten a fervid need to use you to get off. It at least kept your own sexual needs at bay.

Sex got easier over time. It was probably good, right?  You haven’t needed to masturbate in a long time. Haven’t really wanted to, either.  You do like it. Mostly. It’s just… you wish… maybe… if she gave more warning, or _asked_ before jumping you…

The worst time was with the televisions. By far. You have nightmares about that now, sometimes, even though it wasn’t really her fault. She didn’t know how much it would bother you. 

See, the two of you had spent several days winding through the city on a new quest. Asking her to go that long without getting off was a lot, you admit that. The timing just ended up… really bad. 

You passed through a whole nest of televisions, and their buzzing clogged your thoughts and fogged your head, until it was hard to focus or even move. You only hazily remember her climbing onto you, her fingers crawling into your trousers, and her grin wide and sharp. Everything had a dream-like quality. Your mind was gone, like someone had soaked a washcloth in acid and wrung it in your skull. 

It sounded stupid, but you feel like she had sex with your body, not you. You weren’t there, not really. 

So that time really disturbed you. You should have clarified that better to Six. Since you didn’t, she kept up those activities even after that event. Usually every day.

The boys at school would have been really jealous. You sort of wish it was them instead of you, even though you hate the thought of Six being that intimate with anyone else. It meant she loved you, right? Except she loved you before she started doing this, and nothing changed except that sometimes she needed to use you.

No, that was just overthinking things. You got to do this with Six because it was something special, something between you. At least that's what you told yourself. Subconsciously, you started seeking ways to not be alone with Six. It wasn't that you didn't like her - because you did. You loved her. You always would. Just... there was safety, in numbers. Six liked it to just be you and her, because she was possessive by nature. There was nothing wrong, though, with joining other groups of children, other gangs that also skirted around adults and fought to stay alive. 

If joining those groups happened to mean that you were less likely to be alone with Six, well then, that was just happenstance.

Yeah. You weren't even fooling yourself at this point. You wanted company. Safety. Protection.   
  
It was dumb to assume you'd ever be afforded any of those, though. Not once they found out what you were doing with Six.


	2. Chapter 2

Safety in numbers. That was the idea. 

The group of kids you found to fulfill that purpose was a large one: about eleven that perpetually hung around their makeshift settlement, and another three dozen or so that orbited, returning only periodically to visit with familiar faces and take a break from the world. 

The settlement itself was a labyrinth of buildings and structures, connected by walkways, ropes, and tunnels. Their food stores were immense, their beds a series of hammocks, blankets and pillows haphazardly stacked. Their defenses consisted of a 24/7 watch and a thick bed of spikes in every nearby alleyway. These were spikes adults couldn’t easily cross, but children could slip between effortlessly.

The group functioned by strict rules, carefully portioned meals, and no shortage of kindness. Everyone looked out for everyone, and no one particular person was in charge. 

In a greedy world, it was hard to make such a dynamic work, which made their situation particularly unique. As reward, their settlement had become a home. A haphazard slipshod home, maybe, but a helluva lot better than most kids ever got. 

It was the perfect place. 

When you first caught wind of it, you thought that maybe _there_ you could get breathing room. You really liked Six, but lately it had been difficult to relax and appreciate her company the way you once had.

So new friends. A new group. Less time with the two of you alone. Maybe _then_ things between you would be repaired. 

Six wasn’t keen on the idea. It took a lot of convincing, and a lot of reassurances that yes, this was temporary. Only for a few days. That _was_ what you intended: a brief stay to recuperate.

Your time there didn’t end up being so brief. See, you didn’t predict how immense your relief would be. All the kids welcomed you like a long lost brother. Kids looked out for each other here. And meanwhile, Six agreed that killing another kid in a settlement packed with kids wasn’t a great idea. Having sex in a settlement packed with kids _also_ wasn’t a great idea. She got rationed food, like everyone else (though you made sure they provided meat only, chalking the preference up to a picky appetite). And suddenly you didn’t have to worry about doing anything carnal with Six, or stress about what to feed her or _how_ you’d feed her. You were home free.

Just like that, you started to sleep through the night the way you used to: like a log. Your jaw didn’t hurt anymore, which belatedly made you realize you must have been clenching it a lot. A soreness that had long lingered in your thighs faded. This weird tension left your back. Overall, you felt _good_. Energetic. You learned the names of all the regulars. You started volunteering in some of the work, too, like carrying water, going on short food supply runs, helping to repair damaged parts of the settlement. Even less glorious stuff, like talking out cartfuls of waste to the no man’s land outside the city.

It all gave you some purpose, some sense of belonging and duty. For once, that feeling of making a difference didn’t have to involve other kids dying. 

So days bled into weeks. Six’s displeasure grew. She played with the younger kids, sure, and pulled pranks on the older ones (you especially), but she wasn’t thriving. More and more often, she cast you long, dark looks. Looks that got increasingly impatient as the days continued passing and you demonstrated no sign of leaving. 

Once, when there was nobody else around, she slammed your spine against the wall and held you there, eyes boring into yours. It was crazy how she could say so much by saying so little. You knew exactly what she was trying to convey. 

“I’m sorry,” you told her, once you got over the shock, and it was honest: you didn’t like that she was feeling cagey and deprived. It was selfish, that you were staying for your own reasons. “We’ll leave soon, I promise.”

Promises. You made them not _intending_ upon breaking them. Because you _did_ feel horrible for her. You _wanted_ her to mesh with the group more, settle in and become happy here like you were. She wouldn’t, though. Not fully. Her eyes continued to follow you. Her looks continued to darken. Once more she pinned you. Stomped her foot and pointed to the door. 

“Please. Just a little longer.” You were dumb, and naive. More than that, you simply wanted to stay. You wanted to keep the only home you'd had in a long, long time. You didn’t want go back to the roaming solitude, where Six had you all to herself. 

Her patience couldn't last forever, and Hunger was the first thing to cave.

Six wasn’t supposed to kill without your explicit permission: this was an agreement you two had formed years ago. It was a rule meant to protect other individuals, yet usually just shifted the blame onto you instead of saving anybody. Regardless of its efficacy, Six had faithfully followed it for so long now that you had taken it as a staple. You assumed you had some meager power over her appetite.

Of course, you _had_. You had for as long as Six considered you a reasonable manager of her Hunger. But once she thought otherwise…

She left the settlement one day, and you didn’t notice until hours later. When you _did_ notice, and went looking for her, nobody could tell you where she went. She returned only after nightfall. There wasn’t a speck of blood on her; her hair was wet, but clean, her raincoat freshly scrubbed. Six wasn’t exactly one for the best hygiene normally. You didn’t need that evidence, though, to know what she’d done. It was painfully evident in things as simple as the way she stood, or the way her eyes looked. A sated, relaxed aura hovered around her. 

“You know I wasn’t born yesterday,” you hissed to her later that night, huddled in the hallway while most others slept. 

She stuck out her tongue, and waved you off like, _relax, not that big of a deal._

“You promised not to eat like that without my permission.”

This time there was an edge to her dismissal. She fluttered her hands around the hallway; she had to do it twice before you realized she was trying to gesture at the settlement as a whole. Then she jabbed her finger to your chest. You didn’t know what she was trying to say, so you simply replied coldly,

“They give you meat. Why can’t you stick with that? For _once_? Anyway, I can’t believe you broke our promise, Six. Doesn’t it mean anything to you? Do you even care about what I feel?”

That cracked her irritated exterior. In flooded confusion. Betrayal. Like you had misconstrued everything, and deeply hurt her feelings. She ran off before you could repair what you had broken. 

Deep down, you thought she was being unreasonable. That you deserved an apology, at the least, or the slightest bit of regret on her part for shattering a trust you had so long held. 

Six wasn’t the kind of person to show regret, though. When the two of you made up later, it was you cradling her in your lap and whispering apologies, because as upset as you were, it bothered you to see her upset, too. It was you comforting her. Assuring her that you weren’t mad, not really. But please don’t do it again. Please. Not without asking. 

She nodded stiffly to that one. Pointed to the door.

“You want to leave?”

Nodnod. 

Your guts twisted inside. “I…” Memories creep in. Of your mind not being so clear, your body not being so safe. Televisions humming, fingers groping, Six’s grin bright and intent. Of cold, and fear. “We’re safe here,” you tried. With a scowl and a shove, she stalked off.

This prompted a slew of discussions between you two: furtive, one-sided discussions, hidden in closets and in corners. You were scared - you were scared she was going to run off, and do something bad again. So you tried to impress upon her anything that might convince her otherwise. That you needed to keep a low profile. That she needed to keep her promise. Anything that might work to stop her from killing. You even tried to figure out what her favorite kinds of meat were (aside from the obvious one), and talked with the other kids at the settlement to negotiate what she got and how much she got. 

“We already give her only meat on your request,” one of them protested. “We can’t afford to make it specifically one thing or the next, we just don’t have that kind of supply…”

“Are you her brother or something?” Another asked, eyes narrowed. “I keep wondering, because you keep trying to say what she can or can’t eat, and it seems like she can’t speak for herself.”

“No, no I’m not her brother, just - we’ve been together a long time now, and I know what her favorite foods are.”

They denied any request you made. You didn’t blame them, not really. Not only did they keep to strict portioning to maintain everyone’s welfare, but also requesting only meat and only certain kinds of meat (especially in a place where such a thing was hard to come by) was asking way too much. So you walked away feeling guilty and judged. You couldn't explain to them why you were concerned about Six’s appetite. A new tension settled between your shoulders.

Once everyone was friendly and welcoming. Now, after so many secret conversations with Six and your strange requests about her food, you kept feeling like all eyes were on you, like they whispered about you. It was hard to explain. Everybody was _still_ friendly, so maybe you were just paranoid? Overthinking things? You tried doubly hard to show you were committed to the settlement, by volunteering for more chores, hanging around the other kids more. This did mean spending less time with Six, but sometimes you got weird looks when you played only with her, and just… you didn’t know. You didn’t want anymore stress. You just wanted things to settle down again. 

Maybe it was the whole ‘less time spent with Six’ thing that first prompted her to approach you at night for the first time in weeks. She likely could have held off her second appetite longer. Maybe she sensed you were caving. If you believed her to be really insidious, maybe she wanted to ruin what was comfortable to you. You didn’t know. 

Whatever the reason, you woke up in the middle of the night with her on top of you. Hair draping to your cheek. Smile small and hopeful. The other kids were arrayed around you, in their sleeping bags and blankets. One was near enough that you could nearly touch him. Swiftly you went from sleepy to wide-awake. Your chest rose and fell rapidly. She rolled her hips, in case you hadn’t figured out her intentions.

Your eyes jerked back to hers and you fought to convey, _No, remember I said we couldn’t, not with them around, please no -_

She touched a finger to her own lips, eyes dancing. _Not if we’re quiet. It’ll be fine._

And she was very good at being quiet. You were, too. Kids had to be, generally, if they wanted to survive. So you didn’t utter a single peep, the whole time. Not when she undressed you just enough. Not when she showered you in attention. Not when she rode you.

When she finished, and sleepily curled up next to you, you knew what she had learned from this: there was no good reason _not_ to have sex, even in a roomful of other kids. 

Much as you hated the lack of privacy, the risk of being caught, and the faint panic that had accompanied it… some part of you was glad. Some part of you had apparently craved it. Things were okay now between you, right? More okay than they had been in a while. She still really cared about you. You got to be close to her, closer than anyone did. 

Maybe it made you feel a little queasy. A little uncertain. Maybe you started carrying some of that stress that by now had been so long gone. But… you had to admit that you responded to her better than before. Your body did, at least. Like it had long missed what you thought you wanted to avoid. It was okay, mostly. 

To keep things quieter, less obvious, you started to invite her into your sleeping bag, and picked spots on the floor further away from the others. If it was going to happen, you at least had to make sure nobody would find out. 

The peaceful mood that had characterized your stay at the settlement continued to diminish. You suspected one more time that she slipped out to eat, but you didn’t confront her because you didn’t want need to know for sure (you already knew anyway). Meanwhile, your nightly activities kept up. It was embarrassing and humiliating, on top of being incredibly uncomfortable, but… it kept Six happy. And it seemed to be something you needed, too. 

You started to lag on your chores. You were tired more often, wearier. You were jumpy, too. Flinching readily. Always looking over your shoulder. That was probably an inherent fear when your sexual activities would be really obvious to anyone awake at the time. You just banked on the darkness, and your silence, and the fact that everybody _should_ be asleep. Yeah, wasn’t very comforting. Often you tried to scour your eyes across the room and check, but Six was viciously impatient when in the mood.

Everything was different now. Rooms and halls that had felt like refuges were now as grim to you as the empty alleys and damp basements that you and Six used to cross. You dropped one responsibility to the settlement after another, but fought to keep hold of your dwindling tasks. They at least still afforded purpose. Made you feel like you were helping. 

At least… they did.

Up until you were carting back the wheelbarrow from the no man’s land, eager to return to facilities for dinner, and your entrance was barred by five others. Arms crossed, glares sour. 

All five of them you were on decent terms with, and had seen around the settlement quite a bit. So when they blocked your way, you at first let out a short, tense laugh.

“What, I’m not allowed to enter anymore?” You said it as a joke. Maybe crueler than you would have said things normally, but still, you were hungry and not feeling well.

“No,” one of them replied.

“You need to leave here,” said another.

Five flat words. That was all it took for it to sink in that they were being dead serious. You stared at him, wondering if you had heard that correctly. “What?”

“You can’t stay here anymore.” The kid’s brow was a flat line, his eyes steely. Something was really, really wrong here. You knew that the settlement had kicked kids out in the past, had forbidden them from returning. But that was for stealing food, or trying to hurt others, or… any number of things that you were sure you hadn’t done. Your heart began to race in your ears.

“Is this a joke….?” Even as you said it, your voice quavered.

“This isn’t a joke, and don’t make us ask again.” The unhinged note in his voice had you taking a quick step back. 

“Okay okay whoa-” You raised your hands up and backed up further. This was a potentially explosive scenario, but you were confused out of your mind. Why was this happening? “I’ll - I’ll leave if everyone thinks that’s for the best-”

“We do-”

“But at least let me know why?”

The look that crossed their faces was at once haunted and vicious. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know.”

“I - I really don’t.”

“How dense are you, you piece of shit!” One kid stepped forward, teeth gritted and he seethed, “You know what you’re doing to Six; you just don’t care-”

What? _What_? To Six? What _were_ you doing to Six? Your brain scrambled to find answers, to dig through every interaction in the past few days, but again and again it came up with nothing. Your bewildered expression must have pushed him past his patience, because he hissed, 

“You’re a sicko, Mono. You’re a pedophile, and you’ve been hurting and manipulating her- you’re even controlling what she eats!”

Oh. Oh God. It made sense, then. You managing what Six ate wasn’t news for anyone. And someone must have seen the two of you at night. They must have drawn conclusions. Your stomach swooped, your face was leeched of all color. 

To them, that registered as recognition of your crimes. It part, maybe it was. You had been doing things with her you shouldn't have. You were disgusting, for ever thinking about them to begin with. For ever pulling her into doing them. For half a second, you wrestled with justifications: how much you dreaded having sex with her, how she made you flinch when she touched you, and that you never really wanted to go that far with her to begin with. But at the end of the day, you were the older kid, weren’t you? You were the one who was supposed to keep her safe. To uphold boundaries and not let her be dragged into things not appropriate for her. 

You were the one that let it keep happening. Again and again and again. You had no words. No argument. Your breath rattled in your ears.

“Get out.” Flat, cold. 

“Yeah.” The word sounded weird to your ears. God. Did everyone think you were…? Were you actually? Maybe it was true. Maybe what they thought was true. No - it felt wrong but all the evidence pointed to you. 

“Now.”

“But Six-” you started to say, and moved as if to pass them. You’ve been together for years at this point, you can’t leave without her - It was instinct to pursue her, to look after her. You didn’t even have a rational thought until he shoved you back. 

“The hell is wrong with you?” He snapped. “She’s staying here.”

Right. Yeah. That was stupid. They were kicking you out to get you away from her, and from everyone else. Of course you wouldn't be allowed to see her. But wait, _Six didn’t know_. They were about to chase you out, and Six would have no real idea why; she wouldn’t be able to find you again, you wouldn't see her again - 

“Hold on, I have to at least _tell_ her-“ Six didn’t deserve to be confused or upset, thinking you left for no reason. Even if you were a bad influence, even if you'd done horrible things, you _knew_ your friendship mattered, and that Six would want to at least know what happened to you if the two of you could never meet again… 

It was in your effort to squeeze past them, thinking only of Six, that the first blow cracked across your jaw. Stars exploded across your vision and you hit the ground hard. Holy fuck. Okay. Okay. Messaged received. But as you began to stagger up, shadows fell over you. They weren’t done yet. It had just taken one hit for them to cross that line of restraint.

Someone kicked your legs out from under you. Another strike lashed across your face and this time you nearly bit through your tongue. Hot tangy blood poured over your tongue while your ears rang. A booted foot kicked your ribs, then your stomach. It was an assault from all sides, and one sole clipped your head. 

It happened so _fast_. In a span of seconds, you had gone from on your feet to curled in fetal position, hands tucked behind your head for protection, while a hurricane of blows hit from all sides. 

In the tide of pain, you almost, _almost_ , don’t hear the ear-splitting scream. Not one of terror or fear, but of rage. And it’s not yours. 

Every attack ceased. Confused mumbling. You shuddered and your muscles tensed you into a tighter ball. Because you knew. Deep down, you knew, even before your foggy head could process what was happening. You knew because you knew _her_. 

The room erupted into chaos around you. Hot liquid speckled your cheek as fresh screams tore into your ears and yeah, you knew. You knew, even in your addled pain-ridden mind.

Things might have been tumultuous between you and Six lately. Her less than keen on your choices. But at the end of the day, her loyalty to you was something not easily shaken. With that loyalty came a fierce protectiveness. Nobody mattered more to her than you. That wasn’t always a good thing. 

You didn’t want to uncurl. Your head was throbbing. Your whole body ached. And you didn’t want to see what was happening. You could already smell it, the putrid stench of innards being pulled to the outside. You could hear it, too, the cacophony of squelching and cracking and wrenching. Blood-choked cries. Your stomach roiled. The taste of blood was heavy on your own tongue. 

This was your home. 

This was your home, and these were your friends. Beyond just you, this had been a safe haven and a refuge for countless other children.

Not anymore.

Gradually, all the sounds fell into silence. All but a soft crunching and tearing. Six taking her fill, after being so long deprived. The silence spoke of an immense emptiness, the sort of emptiness that meant nothing here would ever be the same.

Hot tears welled in your eyes. This was a mistake. You brought her here. You invited her attention. If you hadn’t thought these things about her, if you hadn’t failed to stop her, if you had just left earlier… All the ways you could have done things differently played in your head, but it didn’t matter, because you hadn’t. You hadn’t. This was your fault. You even lead her here, knowing what she was, what she did. You had just hoped that - that it’d be different, that it’d be okay.

The sounds of chewing ceased.

Then bare feet padded across a slick floor.

You flinched when her soft fingers touched your cheek; the noise that left her was a kind, pitying one. _Poor Mono. My poor Mono._

Only she got why you were upset all wrong. 

A stupid sob escaped your lips. You didn’t care that they beat you up. In part because you deserved it. In part because you understood why: from their perspective, it made sense. You knew how you looked. How you were, maybe. Their actions were justified. What Six had done, though… 

She tugged at you to uncurl, and you didn’t have the will to fight. Your foot touched something cold and wet and you flinched. Okay. Okay. You had to face it eventually. Your eyes opened, one puffy and squinted. 

The walls were spattered. The bodies in pieces. Fresh bile rose up your throat and you swallowed it down. Six was stained in red, kneeling over you, but her eyes were as gentle as you had ever seen them. Cherishing. Concerned. She tucked your hair away from your eyes and stroked along your cheek. An _are you okay? How badly did they hurt you?_ Her fingers grazed the quickly forming bruises apologetically. 

All of them were dead. Your breath came shakily. It was over. Your life here. Any semblance of comfort. They were dead _they were dead._

Six’s possessiveness kindled from her perusal of your injuries. The touches turned to licking, the licking to nibbling.

The end result you should have expected: her reclaiming you amidst all the death. Her heavy breath in your ear, and fingers like claws digging into your skin. Your head spinning in nausea while the thick reek of gore swamped everything. Arousal inflaming your insides while you wanted desperately to sleep and pretend this had never happened.

It wasn’t safe to be around other kids. You should have known that. You were selfish. Stupid. Not again. 

That was the only reassurance you clung to. Not again. You’d leave with Six, and never let yourself be swayed into a false sense of security again. You’d keep her away from others. 

Your bodies pressed almost painfully close together. Her tongue was in your mouth, and the blood you tasted wasn’t yours.


End file.
